


stardust sleeper

by teacupfulofbrains



Series: lamp college!verse [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: College!AU, M/M, Multi, Soft boys are soft, and it's very cute, but luckily he has three loving bfs to take care of him, he refuses to admit that he needs to use the sleep, logan is overworked and needs to use the sleep, there are lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: logan's days are long, and they're full of nonsense. but he can always rely on the loves of his life to pick him back up.(OR: logan's boyfriends force him to practice self-care.)





	stardust sleeper

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE NERD SON, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, LOGAN SANDERS 
> 
> so some of y'all may remember that i created a college!au for lamp during spooky scary sanders sides, and i've decided that periodically i'm gonna write one-shots in that 'verse and upload them in a series on ao3. (most of it's probably gonna be vent fic, lol.) 
> 
> TW: exhaustion, minor anxiety, mentions of sleep deprivation

Logan pulls into his assigned parking space, turns the key, shuts the car off. He still has about fifteen minutes before the lingering heat inside his car dissipates and the October chill starts to seep in, fifteen minutes to sit in the quiet stillness and collect his thoughts, fifteen minutes of sheer solitude. He leans forward until his forehead is resting against the steering wheel, careful not to honk the horn. (He _has_ done that on accident before, scared himself and passing pedestrians shitless.)

Mentally, he runs through a checklist of all the things he has to do tonight. He has online assignments with 11:59 pm deadlines, he has assigned chapters that he has to read and highlight and annotate, he has an essay that he has to start, and he thinks he has to balance an entire sheet full of chemical equations. He’ll check his planner when he gets in. He’s on duty tonight, which means he has to be awake until 3 am anyway. Might as well use that time to do work.

He hopes that his boyfriends don’t ask questions about his study habits again. He has a _reason_ to be awake late this time, he has a necessity. It’s not like he’s staying up for the heck of it. He has a job to do. If that job happens to feed into his slightly-unhealthy study habits, so be it. It’s Thursday, anyway, and Fridays are his lightest day. He can probably take a nap tomorrow.

The cold outside starts to leak its way inside, and the first gentle patters of raindrops start to his his windshield. Logan sits up, stretching, feeling the crack of his spine as he bends backwards as far as he can without hurting himself. He doesn’t have his umbrella, but it’s a scant few feet into his building. He’ll be alright, he thinks.

Logan makes sure that everything is packed securely in his messenger bag, running his fingers over his laptop and his notebooks and his binder and his pencil case even though he can clearly see them. For some reason, he doesn’t believe that he actually has everything until he’s touched it, however lightly. Sighing, he closes the bag and steps out of his car, locking it securely.

A few of his residents nod at him in passing, but none of them try to talk to him, and he’s so thankful for small mercies. Graduate students are too stressed to care very much about him, and they keep to themselves, mostly. They have a meeting on the first of every month, and that’s about it. 

The elevator creaks slightly as it raises him up to the fourth floor, eyes heavy, legs heavier, heart heaviest. He can feel the exhaustion settling in his bones, and he wants to sleep for seventeen hours. The RA suite is halfway down the hall, and he can hear the faint strains of music from elevator. He assumes that it’s Roman blasting show tunes.

He assumes incorrectly. 

The closer he gets to his suite, the clearer the music becomes. By the time he’s right outside the door, the sweet sound of Gaelic lilts through the air. Logan smiles a little and opens the door, and Patton’s Scottish baritone pours out into the hallway.

“ _Oh, ye’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low road and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye . . ._ ” 

Logan shuts the door behind him, toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the little plastic dish next to Patton’s sneakers. The little suite is full of the scent of food, and Logan’s stomach rumbles loudly despite himself. He sets his messenger bag on the couch and turns to the kitchenette, where Patton is pulling something out of the oven.

“ _But me and my true love will never meet again on the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond . . ._ ” 

Logan waits until Patton has closed the oven and stepped away from the hot things that could potentially burn him before approaching him from behind and gently winding his arms around his waist, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Hello, my darling.”

“Logan!” Patton chirps joyfully. Logan closes his eyes and shivers a little; he’s been in love with Patton for two years now, and he’s still weak for hearing his name in Patton’s strong Scottish accent. “How was your day?” 

“It is over now,” Logan sighs, nuzzling into Patton’s soft warmth. “I have so much to do tonight, but . . . but my classes are over now. Thank the Lord, they are over now.”

Patton turns in his grasp and wraps his arms around Logan, gently nuzzling into the soft fluff of his hair and pressing little kisses against his aching head. “Yes, they are, darling. Why don’t you take a nap? Dinner won’t be ready for a little while, you have time.”

“I don’t, Patton,” Logan says. “I have work to do.” But Patton’s arms are warm and secure around him, and Patton is sliding his hand under his shirt and gently stroking his warm, broad hands up and down the fragile bumps of Logan’s spine. He shivers as Patton trails his hands steadily over his back, pressing in just the right places to make the tension drain. His other hand slides up to card through Logan’s hair, gently scratching his scalp.

“You think I haven’t noticed you working yourself harder than normal?” Patton murmurs. “You’re exhausted, Lo. Isn’t it you who said that sleep is a valuable time during which new information is encoded into the hippocampus and more easily retained?”

Logan can’t help but smile just a little as Patton parrots back exactly what he’d said when they’d discovered Virgil on his fourth double espresso at three am. “I suppose . . . I suppose it was me.” 

“Exactly. I think you can take an hour or so to sleep until Ro and Vee get home, don’t you? You have to be awake until 3 am anyway, you need all the sleep you can get.” 

Logan shakes his head, trying to pull away from Patton. “Pat . . . Pat, no, I . . . I g-gotta . . . I have work to . . .”  
  
Patton won’t let him pull away. He hugs Logan close, still stroking his back, and despite his best efforts Logan finds himself being lulled to sleep. He suspects that if he wasn’t already sleep-deprived, this wouldn’t have worked, and that would concern a fully-awake Logan. But dead-on-his-feet Logan is not concerned with anything that isn’t Patton rubbing his back or Patton scratching his scalp or Patton beginning to sing again. And Patton _knows_ that Logan sleeps best when Patton cuddles him and rubs his back and lets Logan press his ear to his chest so that he can _feel_ Patton’s singing vibrating through his chest cavity, and he’s totally playing dirty right now.

“Cheating . . .” Logan mumbles, slipping closer and closer to sleep.

“Maybe,” Patton says, “but I’m not apologizing.”

Logan’s eyes slide shut, regardless of how hard he fights to keep them open, and then he’s asleep in Patton’s arms.

Patton almost cries in relief when Logan finally sags against him, unconscious. He knows Logan isn’t faking it, either, because an actually-asleep Logan makes little snuffling snore noises that pretending-to-sleep Logan does not. Patton’s never mentioned this fact, because he needs to know when Logan sleeps, nor has he mentioned that the little sleep noises Logan makes are absolutely adorable.

With minimal effort, Patton shifts his arms and scoops Logan into them, bridal style, Logan’s head lolls over his arm, but Patton manages to shift Logan’s body so that his head is cradled by Patton’s neck and shoulder. “There we go, Lolo,” he says. “I told you that you needed to sleep, didn’t I?” 

He doesn’t bother trying to put Logan in his bedroom. Instead, he lays him out on the couch, tucking a pillow beneath his head and covering him in the quilt they keep draped across the back. Then he digs Logan’s phone out of his bag, switches it to silent, and plugs it in at the unofficial charging station they keep in the kitchen. Making sure his own phone is silenced, Patton takes a photo of Logan and opens the groupchat they have with Roman and Virgil. 

**GROUP CHAT NAME: polyFAMorous <3**

**pattoncake:** _attachment: 1 image_

**pattoncake:** he’s sleep deprived again . . . try to be quiet coming in, okay?

Roman’s at choir practice and Virgil’s in class, so he isn’t expecting quick responses from either. He returns to the kitchen to finish dinner, singing at a lower volume so that he keeps Logan asleep and doesn’t wake him up. Thirty-five minutes later, he sees his screen light up with a message alert.

**GROUP CHAT NAME: polyFAMorous <3**

**PRINCE ROMAN:** HE’S SO C U T E

**p!ateverywhere:** did he pass out on the couch, pat?

**pattoncake:** no, he was gonna keep working. i caught him on his way in and more or less sang him to sleep. he has duty til 3 am tonight, he needs this

**PRINCE ROMAN:** Why must he INSIST on not sleeping properly?

**p!ateverywhere:** y o u ‘ r e one to talk, princey

**PRINCE ROMAN:** I COULD SAY THE SAME ABOUT YOU

**pattoncake:** guys, guys, not helping!

Before he can referee them any further, the door creaks open. He turns to see Virgil, sliding his phone into his pocket. He gives Patton a two-fingered salute when he steps into the room; Patton blows him a kiss. He throws a cursory glance at Logan to make sure he’s still asleep (he is) and then hurries through the living room. Virgil’s rain-spattered jacket hangs on the coat rack, his damp sneakers sit in the shoe dish, and his bag thumps lightly onto the ground as Patton slides happily into his arms. 

Virgil gently kisses Patton’s jaw, trailing his lips along the bone and nuzzling up into his boyfriend. “Hey there, sugar,” he mumbles, and Patton feels his heart do a triple backflip at Virgil’s soft nickname. “Dinner smells great.” 

“Hey there,” he whispers. “How was your night class?”   
  
“My accent is killin’ me, Pat,” Virgil answers. “They pronounce their r’s so hard up here, an’ I don’ –”

“I know,” Patton says, leaning his forehead against Virgil’s. “I know it’s hard being somewhere where you stand out so much.” 

“I hate it, Pat, I hate it so much.” Virgil’s not crying, but his eyes are a little bit wet. 

“I know you do,” Patton soothes. Virgil lets out a soft, shaky breath and gently nuzzles his nose against Patton’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be okay,” Virgil reassures, gently kissing Patton. Patton leans into him; Virgil’s lips are always chapped from where he bites them out of nerves, but the inside of his mouth is warm, and his palms are soft as he slides them up to cup Patton’s face. Patton has round, baby-faced cheeks that Virgil absolutely loves to squish. 

“I know you will,” Patton says. “You’re so strong, Virgil, and you’re so smart, and you’re going to be an _amazing_ speech therapist! I know it!”

“I hope so.”

“I _know_ so.”

"And _you’re_ goin’ to be an amazin’ occupational therapist, honey.” Patton resists the urge to squeal when Virgil calls him “honey”, choosing instead to lean forward and nuzzle his nose against Patton’s. 

“Gay,” someone laughs. Patton and Virgil turn to look, but it’s just Roman, standing at the doorway, hair mussed from the hood of his sweatshirt. His shoulders are covered in dark stains where raindrops have soaked into the cottony fabric, and little droplets of water glisten in his hair. One rolls down his nose and hangs off the tip for a millisecond before falling as Roman wipes at the rain on his face. 

“So are you, Roman,” Patton teases. Roman locks the door behind him, throwing his jacket and shoes and bag haphazardly all over the place as he pulls Patton in for a kiss. He leans forward, dipping Patton backwards slightly with one steadying hand pressed to the small of his back. 

“I take pride in that fact,” Roman hums, “and I take pride in netting three such beautiful boyfriends.” Virgil rolls his eyes as Roman lets Patton stand up again, grabs his hand, and pulls him forward gently, kissing the tip of his nose. Virgil turns pink and squeaks a little.

“Dinnertime?” Roman asks. 

“Very soon,” Patton promises. “I’m putting the finishing touches on the chicken now, and we’ll wake Logan when it’s ready. He’s so exhausted, guys.”

“He works so hard,” Roman coos, gently smoothing stray curls of hair off Logan’s freckle-spattered face. “He deserves a break.”

Logan carries himself with rigid composure at all times. Patton fusses almost _constantly_ about how tense Logan’s muscles are, but Logan doesn’t seem to notice. He is constantly taught, like a bow drawn back in preparation to fire, like a violin string being tuned to its highest pitch, and it takes a toll on him, whether he notices or not.

But now, splayed on his back on the couch, Logan is completely limp and relaxed. His mouth is parted slightly, and his head lolls back a little, curls flung wildly around his head and stuck all over his face in weird places. He’s almost boneless, totally relaxed, face twitching just a little bit as he stirs in his sleep.

“Mmmmm . . . no, don’ . . . don’ put the . . .” 

Roman jumps backwards as Logan jerks up and awake, shrieking, “DO NOT MIX THOSE CHEMICALS THEY ARE HIGHLY – Roman?”

“ _Jesus_ , Chemical Romance!” Roman exlaims, heart hammering against his chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“My apologies, I – I was asleep? How long –” 

His eyes widen, and he looks at Patton accusingly. “You! You sabotaged me!”   
  
“If by sabotaged, you mean I ensured that you sleep properly, then yes, I definitely sabotaged you,” Patton responds smoothly. Logan pouts a little, but Roman kisses his nose gently and he blinks, eyes wide, mouth open slightly. 

“ _Oh_.”

“Congratulations, you found his off switch!” Patton giggles.

Roman pulls Logan into his lap, and Logan easily settles, looping his arms around Roman’s neck and letting his legs stretch out on the couch as Roman’s strong arms wrap around his waist. “You need to rest, Logan,” Roman says quietly. “You can’t work yourself to the bone the way you do. It’s not healthy.”

“I . . . I know that,” Logan sighs. “It is just hard, looking at all that I still have to do.”

“Well, you can’t see your planner now, can you?”

“No . . .”

“No, you can only see _me_ , can’t you,” Roman purrs, leaning in so that his lips brush against Logan’s with every single syllable. “And I’m not throwing any deadlines at you at all, and I’m not expecting anything from you except a kiss right now. Can you meet that expectation?”   
  
Logan’s face is pink, which only makes the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks all the more apparent. “I . . . um . . .”

“You’re so pretty, Lo,” Roman hums, gently rubbing his nose against Logan’s. “You’ve got stars on your face, and you’ve got stars in your eyes, and you’ve got stars in your –”

Logan leans in and kisses him to stop the flood of compliments, face burning furiously. Roman giggles victoriously, even as he kisses Logan back.

“I suppose,” Logan breathes, “that I can slow down long enough to enjoy a meal with the loves of my life.”

Roman gasps delightedly. “I’m the love of your life?” he gasps, affecting the accent of Hectór.

Logan rolls his eyes, but finishes the quote. “I don’t know, I’m still angry at you!”

He leans in and kisses Roman again, and again, and again, and he only stops when Virgil sits on the couch next to him and cups his face and pulls it away from Roman so that he can kiss Logan, too.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on tumblr!!! // [@teacupfulofstarshine ](https://teacupfulofstarshine.tumblr.com)


End file.
